


Enchanted

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, Ravenclaw Ed, Teacher-Student Relationship, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What good is being half-Veela, Ed thinks, if it can't nail him a professor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> Very overdue fic giveaway prize for Lolisoup!

Ed ran his fingers through the side of his shimmering golden hair, glaring at the mirror.  There had to be _some_ way to style it that would get what he needed.  The ponytail made him look _mature_ , he thought, but the braid was classic.  But when he left it down, it fell around his shoulders, long and silky and flowing and enchanting, alluring enough for a thousand bard’s songs—

_Ugh._

What the fuck good was it being half-Veela if you couldn’t nail yourself a professor.

With a growl, he shoved his fingers through the hair on the top of his head, letting it fall messily into his face.

It looked amazing.  Of fucking course it did.

“Brother?  What are you doing?”

Ed dropped his hand and whirled, trying _not_ to look like he was trying to look effortlessly gorgeous—not that he needed the help; at this point, he would _kill_ for the ability to have a bad hair day.  “The fuck’re you doin’ here?”

“It’s not that hard to get past the riddle at the door, and it’s not like I don’t know most of the Ravenclaws now anyway, so…”

Ed just sighed.  “Yeah, yeah.”  He eyed Al critically.  Maybe he should consider going that route; while nothing would conceal their “luminous, entrancing golden eyes” or what the fuck ever, cutting his hair short might do a bit to dispel the whole “curtains of silken hair” bullshit.

But Ed _liked_ his long hair.

And besides, he had heard enough swooning over how _devastatingly_ handsome and charming Al was ( _ugh_ ) to know that probably wouldn’t work, anyway.

“Also I wanted to let you know that you’re going to be late to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Ed froze, eyes wide.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he yelped.

Hair down after all, then.

Grabbing his bag, he bolted past, leaving a snickering Alphonse behind.

—

There was no way Ed had spent the past several weeks researching complicated defense charms to _impress_ someone.  No way that he had very deliberately picked out the most difficult ones to perform, evaluated each and every one, and then thrown himself into mastering the showiest one possible.  No way that he had waited for weeks in Defense Against the Dark Arts class for an excuse to use it.  When the topic of Patronuses had come up, and the class had been in the midst of discussing the theories behind the charm, Ed had just _happened_ to get into a debate with another student about proper techniques, the best way to prove that he was right was, of course, to stand up and prove his point practically.

It wasn’t an entirely unusual occurrence, in the Ravenclaw classes, for an argument to end this way, so when the silvery Nile Monitor slithered out of Ed’s wand and stalked up to the student in question, there were only a _few_ screams, and most of them were startled rather than horrified anyway.

But then when they were dismissed for the day…

“Edward Elric, please stay behind and see me,” Professor Mustang murmured.

 _Oops_ , Ed thought, utterly insincerely.

He sighed, dropping his bag into the chair closest to the door, and turned back to Roy—Professor _Mustang._

“Hey.”  He smirked.  Smirking was confidence; confidence was sexy.  He was _pretty_ sure.  At least, as far as he had researched.

“Elric.”  Professor Mustang steepled his fingers together, watching Ed levelly.

“Mustang.”  Ed sauntered up to prop himself on the professor’s desk.  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“I did.”  Mustang shifted a stack of papers on his desk, settling them between himself and Ed.  Ed didn’t miss the flick down of Mustang’s eyes to Ed’s hips, though, and his smirk deepened.   Holy shit, holy _shit._  It was actually _working._  He could _definitely_ do this.  “Was that _truly_ necessary?”

Ed shrugged effortlessly, intentionally sending a shimmering—or silken, maybe; who the fuck even knew—wave of golden hair cascading down his shoulder.  See?  He could play the game when he needed to.  “Well, yeah.  Tringham was being a jackass.  I had to show him he was _wrong._ ”

Mustang simply sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger.  “You had to show off, you mean.  Try to impress… whoever was watching.”

Ed shot up, standing straight, eyes gleaming.  “Why, were you impressed?”

The look Mustang shot him was one of irritation and disbelief.  “That’s not the point I was trying to make—!”

“Oh, please, Roy—and don’t give me that “Professor Mustang” bullshit; I call you Roy when we talk at the Three Broomsticks, I’m gonna call you Roy when we’re alone now.  I’m fucking _bored_ of doing this shit.  You know as well as I do that I’ve been able to break Inferi enchantment since my fifth year—“

“That’s not the point!”  As Roy raised his voice, Ed mentally awarded himself five points to Ravenclaw for the reaction.  Fond exasperation it might be, but Ed told himself that it was the “fond” part that mattered.  “The curriculum is there for a reason—“

“Then let me take extracurricular stuff again!  You know I’m ready for NEWTs!  I wanna learn _interesting_ things, things I don’t know!  I wanna master the fucking fire jinxes you invented, work on making my own stuff—”

Roy closed his eyes.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  Not after the last time—“

“Bullshit!”  Roy’s eyes snapped open at the vehemence in Ed’s tone.  “No one saw—no one knows!  Ed stepped forward.  “Besides, I’m of age now.  It’s no one else’s goddamn business, anyway!  Who cares if we—“

“Ed!” Roy hissed, and Ed scoffed at the interruption.  “Keep it down!  Someone could walk in!”

With another scoff, Ed grabbed his sycamore wand and whirled, pointing it at the door.  A nonverbal _Colloportus_ later, and it had closed and locked, trapping them in the room together.

Roy took a deep, steadying breath.

“Ed,” he began, looking intently back.  “What happened, I don’t—I know what you’ve had to go through, deal with, how people go after you because of… who you are.”

“Because I’m half-Veela,” Ed interrupted bluntly.  “You can say it, y’know.”

“Because you’re half-Veela,” Roy repeated delicately.  “And I don’t—you have to understand, I don’t want to be one of those people—“

“You’re _not_ , Roy, okay, you’re _not!_ ”  How the fuck could someone so smart be so _stupid?_  “You didn’t give a fuck about my looks until we started to get to know each other.  Trust me, I fuckin’ _noticed._  You’re not some creep who’s trying to get in my pants.”

Ed stepped forward again, and now, they were close enough that their knees bumped, and Roy watched him carefully.

“And I _want_ to kiss you again,” he murmured, eyes meeting Roy’s intently.

Roy’s eyes widened, just a bit, and Ed took that as an invitation.  Leaning down, Roy’s eyes followed him carefully, but he didn’t pull back.  With a smug sigh, Ed tilted his head, leaning forward to press their lips together, eyes fluttering closed.

Ed hadn’t thought that the second time kissing Roy could be even better than the first, but it _was_ , and maybe there was something to this kissing thing after all, he had to admit, after years of avoiding it, sometimes to a ridiculous degree.  He _still_ felt like a clumsy idiot, the way that Roy’s kissing was so _nice_ and _expert_ and fucking _amazing_ , but that just meant more to learn, and honestly, the way Roy’s lips guided Ed’s obviously inexperienced ones, there were worse teachers to have.  One of Roy’s hands slid gently around Ed’s waist, and Ed had to steady himself with a hand on Roy’s shoulder.

Ed pulled back, finally, when he decided he needed air—fuck, kissing was _weird_ , though still no less nice—and when his eyes flew open, they were inches from Roy’s, the two of them breathing heavily, and Ed _froze._

He wasn’t—what the fuck did he do now, now the he was here, staring at Roy’s—‘scuse him, _Professor Mustang’s_ —stupid handsome face?  And he could _smell_ Roy, a faint natural earthiness with a faint but distinct spice and the slightest hint of pine smoke, their breaths mingling, the taste of him still on Ed’s lips, and fuck, _fuck_ , his heart was beating wildly, when had _that_ happened—what were they supposed to do now—

A sharp rap on the door sent Ed leaping away, hurtling backwards towards one of the desks to catch his balance, and he clung there for a moment, wondering when the fuck his inhuman grace and shit was going to bother coming in to save his ass.

Roy cleared his throat, glancing away, but not before Ed caught a slight smile on his face.  Yes.   _Yes._  He had fucking _known_ it would work out, he thought, insufferably smug.

“I had… better get that.  I’ll see you Thursday evening, the usual time?”

Ed’s face split into a beaming grin.  “Hell yeah!  I’ll work on that wandless Homorphus Charm and have it perfected before then, swear to god.”

Roy sighed, and there was that fond exasperation again.  “Is there _anything_ you can’t do?” he asked, tone wry.

Ed grimaced, snagging his bag.  “Yeah, fuckin’ potions.  Amortentia.  I burn it every time.”

“Burn—“  Roy looked like he was trying not to laugh, the fucker.  “My goodness, that _is_ impressive.  Burning a liquid?  How are you managing to do that?”

Ed shook his head, the old frustration coming back, grounding him, pulling him back from his almost manic determination to make things—normal again.  Controlled.  Yeah, he had this.  “Fuck if I know, but I get the goddamn smoke smell every single damn time.”

He could see Roy’s eyes widen slightly, a muted look of surprise on his face, but the rapping noise sounded again, and Ed whirled, tapping the lock with a muttered, “ _Alohamora_.”

It swung open to reveal a stern-faced Professor Curtis.  Ed blinked up at her innocently before turning back to glance at Roy briefly.

“See you, R—Professor.”

Without another word, he strutted out of the room, a smirk on his face.

 


End file.
